3:17
by SentientMist
Summary: Helen has doubts.


AN: It's amazing the things that occur in my mind whenever I cannot focus on the professor's lecture in computer science. Hope you enjoy the product!

Disclaimer: How I wish they were mine! But I suspect they're thankful they aren't! xD

**3:17**

By: SentientMist

It was early. Too early.

Rolling over and rubbing his eyes, Will attempts to focus on the glowing red digits of the seldom used alarm clock.

3:17

She hadn't slept.

That was odd.

Since he'd taken to sharing her bed, Helen rarely left without waking him. Regardless of the hour.

Maybe something had happened.

No, that didn't make sense either.

She would have woken him.

Will fumbles with his glasses, finding them on the night stand and slipping them on. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a faint glimmer and turns toward it, finally noticing the closed bathroom door and the light that filters beneath it.

Crossing the room, Will lightly raps on the door.

"Helen?"

"I'll be out in a minute, Will."

Her reply is hurried, and he knows her well enough to know she's been crying.

"Helen," he says, softer this time, and she doesn't answer.

His mind made up, Will twists the knob and pushes the door open.

Helen is sitting on the closed toilet seat, her head in her hands and her face streaked with the previous day's makeup.

Will's heart aches at the perfect picture of misery she presents.

"I don't think I can do this."

His still sleep addled mind struggles to grasp her meaning.

"What? What can't you do, Helen?"

"I don't know! This, Will! All of this!"

She's frustrated, waving her hands forcefully as she talks.

"You mean us."

Miserably, she drops her hands back into her lap, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

"I don't know how to do this," she finally whispers, fresh tears sliding down her face as she drops her gaze back to the floor.

Kneeling in front of her, Will crooks a finger under her chin to tilt her head up.

"Look at me," he instructs softly.

Finally meeting his eyes, she lets out a shaky breath.

"Tell me what to do, please" she begs in a tiny voice.

"I can't do that."

She tips her head back down, pulling away from his touch.

"Helen, I can't tell you what to do. Nobody can. We just have to figure it out as we go."

After a beat, she locks eyes with him again.

"I can't give you what you want. You deserve better than I can give you, Will," she murmurs, bringing the back of her hand up to rest against his cheek.

So, that's what this was really about.

Taking her hand in one of his own, Will laces their fingers together. Then with his free hand, he soothingly brushes the hair back from her face.

"What I want is you."

His words are slow and deliberate, conveying his honesty.

"And I am one hell of a lucky guy because I have you here with me."

Helen simply shakes her head.

"You deserve better. You deserve someone who can commit, someone who's not going to hold back-"

"Someone who can love you without reservations," she finishes so quietly Will almost misses it.

"Helen," he starts, fingers still stroking her hair comfortingly, "You are what I want. You're everything. What I look forward to in the mornings, and what I want to come home to at night. I love you for you. All of you."

He pauses to let what he's saying sink in.

"And whether you believe it or not, you did commit to me, Helen. The moment you decided to open your heart to me. You knew there was no going back, but you let me in anyway. And that, sweetheart, means more to me than any flashy ceremony or shiny ring."

"Will-"

As a fresh wave of tears breaks, Will pulls her to him.

Helen wraps her arms around his back, clutching fistfuls of his shirt and clinging to him so tightly the air rushes out of his lungs.

After long minutes, Helen's hold on him loosens and she relaxes against him, her temple resting comfortably against his shoulder and fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay."

Humming her assent, Helen lifts her head from his shoulder.

Will drops a kiss on top of her head as he stands and moves to the sink, wetting a washcloth. Returning to stand in front of her, he tenderly swipes the damp cloth across her cheeks, removing the dried tears and streaks of mascara.

"Close your eyes," he orders quietly.

She offers no argument as she easily complies, and he quickly finishes wiping away her remaining makeup.

"C'mon. You need sleep."

He grasps her outstretched hand and laces their fingers together again, pulling her into a standing position.

Helen willingly follows him to the bed and stands patiently as he lovingly eases off her pants and shirt.

She has always hated sleeping in confining clothing.

Pulling back the covers, Will gently guides her down to the bed. Quickly removing his own shirt and pants, he slides onto the bed beside her.

Immediately, Helen curls into him. She leans up long enough for him to slip an arm around her and then comfortably settles her head on his shoulder, her hand trailing up to lay over his heart.

"Thank you, Will," she whispers quietly into his neck.

"For what?" he murmurs.

"For loving me," she breathes.

Dropping another light kiss into her hair, Will pulls her closer.

"Always."

Snuggling deeper into the warmth he provides, Helen whispers a nearly silent, 'I love you' as she slowly drifts off surrounded by the love in his steady embrace.


End file.
